


Fractures

by MrsHamill



Series: Raising Madison [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breaking apart and mending it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractures

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the beginning of _Hunting of the Snark_ but I realized (somewhere around page forty) that it really should be a stand-alone piece. Thanks to Susan, as usual, for her wonderful help. It follows _Full Circle_ , about a month or so past it.

Rodney ran as fast as he could -- which was far too slow, even after all his practice -- from his lab on the southwest pier to the transporter to the control tower, to the infirmary. All the way there, he heard words in his head, the words that had come by radio from a nurse in the infirmary: "I'm afraid there's been an accident involving Madison, could you come by..."

He skidded into the infirmary, breathless and panting, sweat dripping from his head into his eyes, to find John standing with Carson, who was carefully putting a cast around Madison's left arm. A _cast_?

"Oh my God," Rodney gasped, stumbling into a bed. "What... oh my God! What happened?!"

John was holding himself stiffly, his mouth a tightly pinched line. He didn't look up as Rodney spoke. "It's quite all right, Rodney," Carson said, wiping his hands on a towel. "Green--"

"Her arm is _broken_?" Rodney demanded, shaking so hard he thought it could be picked up as seismic activity. He turned accusingly to John. "You said it would be fine, you said nothing would happen, and she _broke her goddamn arm_ and it's all your fault, I told you I--"

"Rodney!" Carson's voice was sharp and it cut through Rodney's voice like a hot knife through butter, leaving Rodney gaping, even more furious. Carson handed Madison over to the nurse helping him, saying, "Just another layer there, please," before turning to Rodney. "Calm down, Rodney--"

But Rodney couldn't be calmed. All he could see was Jeannie's... no, _Madison's_ blood-soaked, golden hair on a slab in the morgue. "Don't tell me to calm down!" he yelled. "She's got a goddamned broken _arm_ \--"

Carson grabbed him and hauled him back, away from Madison. "She's _fine_ , Rodney! It's a greenstick fracture, she could have gotten it falling out of bed. And you'll do as I say because I'll have you removed from surgery if you don't!" he said, his quiet voice fiercer than Rodney had ever heard it. 

"You wouldn't dare!" Rodney said, aware of his heart hammering and his lack of breath. "If you should be throwing anyone out, it should be Sheppard for--"

"Rodney! Shut up!" Carson got into his personal space and shoved him further back. "Stop thinking about yourself for a minute and look to see what you're doing to Madison!"

"What?!" Rodney said. He was freaking out, he was going into a panic attack, this was his worst nightmare, Madison getting hurt and him not getting there in time to help...

Carson put his hands on Rodney's head and forced him to look at Madison. "Look, Rodney!"

"Oh, Christ," Rodney breathed. Madison was crying, her little face red and blotchy. "You... you need to give her pain meds, she's hurting, she's--"

"She's crying because her uncle is being a shite!" Carson yelled. "Rodney! It's a damned greenstick fracture, it didnae even need reducing, she barely feels it. She'll have to wear a cast for a few weeks then she'll be right as rain. For God's sake, man, you're not helping, here!"

Rodney was about to shout back when he heard Madison, sniffling, her breath hitching as she repeated, over and over, "Please don't fight, I'll be good, I'm sorry, please don't fight..." John wouldn't even look at him, though he was pale and trembling, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. Even the nurse was scowling. 

"I..." Rodney deflated like a punched balloon. "Oh, God. Maddie, it's not your fault," he said, trying to break free of Carson's hold on him.

Carson wouldn't let him go. "Listen to me, Meredith Rodney McKay, don't you dare go blaming anyone or anything for this, because if you intend to do so, I'll have you confined to quarters until I can beat some sense into you. Do you understand?"

Rodney's brain felt like it was on hiatus; he wanted to cry, to scream, to run in circles and wrap Maddie in bubble-wrap and store her carefully away, where nothing could touch or hurt her. How could Carson say there was no blame? Sheppard had been teaching her on that damned skateboard-- 

"Maddie," Sheppard said, his voice low and carrying a tone Rodney didn't think he'd ever heard before, "it wasn't your fault. I tell you three times: it wasn't your fault."

"Because what I tell you three times is true," Madison whispered, through tears and hiccoughs. 

Sheppard nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss on her forehead, gently wiping away her tears  with his thumbs. Then he turned and left, his gaze on the floor, not meeting anyone's eyes. Rodney wanted to feel vindicated, wanted to feel satisfaction that John knew the whole thing was his fault for stupidly trying to teach a six year old how to use a goddamned skateboard...!

He was going to have bruises on his shoulders from how tightly Carson was holding him. "Rodney. Do you understand? I _will_ confine you if you don't stop your bloody whinging and pay attention!"

"I am paying attention!" Rodney roared. "Because of John Sheppard, my niece has a--"

"What is going on here?" Elizabeth stood in the doorway, with Teyla behind her. They were both glaring at Rodney.

"Sheppard trying to teach Madison how to skateboard is what's going on!" Rodney said, finally able to shake Carson's hands from his shoulder. "And now she has a broken _arm_ and--"

Teyla was suddenly with Carson, both of them practically dragging Rodney away. "What are you doing!" he nearly screamed. 

Carson managed to get a curtain around them and then Teyla was suddenly in his face. "If you do not stop yelling, I will break _your_ arm to give you something to yell about," she growled. She pushed Rodney back against a bed and wow, Teyla was strong, more than he'd even suspected. "Elizabeth and I could hear you halfway to the control room. Calm yourself now, Dr. McKay."

"Or I'll give you a sedative," Carson said, looking like he meant it.

"But... but..."

"Rodney. I've been trying to tell you, this isn't near as much of a problem as you're making it. You're distressing my patient, my nurses, the whole bloody surgery!" Carson's voice was low and quiet and the look Teyla was giving Rodney almost made him back down. "D'you really want me to confine you to your quarters? Your _old_ quarters?"

He wanted to pace, to scream, to hit someone, something, to not face either John or Madison. Against his will, tears were coming out of his eyes, hot and stinging. He dashed them away with the back of his hand. "Sheppard--"

"John did not cause this, Rodney." 

Rodney spluttered in confusion and rage at Teyla's words. "How do you -- you can't know that! He was supposed to be _careful_ and--"

"It. Was. An. Accident," Teyla said, quietly and firmly. "Do you honestly believe that John Sheppard could _ever_ deliberately hurt Madison?"

All the air left Rodney's body and he was suddenly glad he was backed into a bed, because he suspected it was the only thing holding him up. Of course not, of course John would never hurt Madison, but Madison was hurt anyway and there had to be... be a reason, someone to blame besides himself... His chest hurt and he was holding back hysterics by a fine, thin line.

Teyla and Carson were still blocking him in, preventing his escape. He let his head droop and swallowed hard. "I did not think so," Teyla said, her voice almost normal. "You need to calm yourself so you can go reassure your niece and make amends with your husband." 

"I... I don't know if I can... can do either," Rodney mumbled around a mouth filled with cotton.

"I do," Carson said. His voice and his hands were suddenly gentle again. "Rodney, she needs you. I know you can do this because I've seen you do it in the past. It'll be all right, lad, just stay _calm_ for pity's sake."

It took Rodney long minutes to get himself under control again. Part of him didn't want to, part of him still wanted to rage and scream at Sheppard, at Madison, at himself, it didn't really matter who. Carson left the curtained alcove but Teyla stayed with him while he fought his demons and memories. Her hand on his shoulder was warm and a centering influence for him. When he was finally able to talk without sobbing or gasping, he mumbled, "Thank you."

She smiled, though he didn't look up to see. He didn't need to. "It is what friends do for each other, Rodney," she said, her voice sweet and soft. 

He nodded. Friends and lovers, and oh, he was so not looking forward to talking to John about all this, telling him how he saw Jeannie...

No. He didn't have to go there (yet, said a whisper in his brain) because first, he needed to see his niece.

Madison was sitting on Elizabeth's lap while the cast (a _pink_ cast, for the love of God) on her left arm was drying under a heat lamp. Her face was dry but her eyes were bruised and her face was white and pinched. When Rodney came out from behind the curtain, the look on her face only added to his shame. He ignored Elizabeth in favor of gently wrapping Madison in his arms, taking care to avoid the cast.

She spoke first. "I'm sorry, Unca Mer," she whispered. "It was me, Unca John said I shouldn't try to catch some air and I did anyway and I promise, I _promise_ \--"

"Oh, Maddie," Rodney said, his voice choked. "It wasn't your fault. It... it was an accident."

Her breath hitched as Elizabeth slowly slid out of the way, letting Rodney take her place. "But... but you were mad at... at Unca John... it wasn't him, Unca Mer, really, honest..."

Rodney swallowed hard, strove with all his might to sound calm and normal. "Three-M, your Uncle Meredith is a colossal, stupendous jerk who completely overreacted. I saw your arm, and--"

"It doesn't hurt, Unca Mer," she said quickly. "Unca John said it probably wouldn't and he was right, it only hurt when I landed on it." She gulped. "And I gots a scrape on my hand and knee, too, but they just wanted SpongeBob plasters."

"Band-Aids," Rodney corrected her absently. Madison was growing up speaking in at least four different dialects, not one of them grammatically correct. They really should be working on that.

"That really hurt worst. My knee gots a big scrape on it."

"Your knee _has_ a scrape on it. And you should have had kneepads on," Rodney said. He closed his eyes and hugged Madison as tightly as he could. "I'm sorry, Maddie. I overreacted."

"Let's see how this is setting, then," Carson said quietly, touching the cast gently. "Looks just about right. Another five minutes or so."

"Despite what I know you're thinking, this does not get you out of English class," Elizabeth said, patting Rodney's shoulder and caressing Madison's head. "I don't think you're going to have any problems either typing or writing, even with that cast."

"And no swimming until it's off, either," Carson said, hard on the heels of Elizabeth's words.

Madison sighed but didn't sound upset by the verdict so Elizabeth kissed her cheek and left the infirmary. Madison was still too quiet, though, and Rodney knew why.

He stayed with her, cuddled her, talked to her about her classes and anything else she wanted to talk about until the cast was dry. He made sure to be the first person to sign it with a convenient Sharpie Carson provided. That seemed to cheer her up, especially when he told her that yes, she could have others sign it and yes, he thought they could visit the mainland soon so Jinto and Amaly could sign it as well.

Half an hour later, he left Madison with Elizabeth as he trudged down corridors, looking for John. He had checked in their apartment, but wasn't surprised to find John not there. He had a feeling he knew where John was, though he wished he didn't -- it was in one of the older, disused labs, the same lab where they'd had their fight before Rodney had left Atlantis. Rodney had been avoiding it as if it were filled with nanobots.

Sure enough, John was there, standing at parade rest in front of the dusty windows. "How did you find me?" he said as Rodney came through the door. 

Rodney sighed. "The same way you knew it was me," he said. "I saw you head down this corridor a few weeks ago -- I was with Liu and Zelenka so couldn't follow, but this lab is really the only useful place in this direction."

John nodded but didn't turn. Rodney stayed where he was, by the door. The room still echoed of the words they'd shouted at each other, at the feelings they'd laid bare. Rodney could still hear himself, his voice raw as he'd admitted how much he loved Sheppard and Sheppard's face closing up; he could still hear the words that cut Rodney to the bone.

_"Jesus, McKay, not everything has to be about you!"_

_"It's not! Katie... Katie... it was my fault, I know it was my fault, I thought--"_

_"So you screwed up, McKay! It's obviously not the first time!"_

_"That's not... No! But... I thought it was inert, John, I swear I--"_

_"Get over the God complex, McKay, and come back and see me then. Better yet? Don't."_

_"Don't say that, you can't, we've been through--"_

_"McKay, you're more work than I ever wanted out of a fuck-buddy. I can't trust you, no one can, apparently, not even the botanists--"_

_"I swear it was--"_

_"Suck it up, McKay! So it was an accident, what difference does it make? You and your murderous arrogance, your need to always be right... What do you want from me, a goddamned blessing?"_

_"I just wanted, needed someone, someone who knows, who can... you and me, what we have is better--"_

_"What, now you're going to drag romance into it? It was nice while it lasted, McKay, or really, maybe not--"_

_"Don't. Don't do this. God damn you--"_

_"But whatever, you're gonna have to go a long way to even get me to trust--"_

_"Don't you understand anything, you sonofabitch? I didn't want to... to... Goddamnit, I love you! I... I..."_

_"Oh, really."_

_"I..."_

_"I don't think you're actually capable of that, McKay. Even if you were, it wouldn't matter, not anymore."_

_"You... you... bastard..."_

_"Not me, McKay, not me!"_

John wasn't talking now, though, so Rodney (as usual) tried to fill in the silence. "I'm sorry," he began, then had to clear his throat. "I... I went a little crazy, a little overboard. Okay, a lot overboard. I know it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was." John's contradiction was flat and hard. "I let her skate without kneepads or a helmet. I should have known better."

Rodney scratched the back of his neck. "Yes. Well... yes. But we don't have anything that fits her  anyway, and I know, I mean, I know you wouldn't do anything deliberately. Carson says... well, Maddie says it doesn't even hurt."

"It doesn't. It's a greenstick fracture, they don't hurt unless you have to pop the bone back, Carson calls it 'reducing.' But it doesn't hurt." His voice was still flat and expressionless.

Blinking in sudden realization, Rodney asked, "How old were you?" knowing it was true.

John sighed. "I'm not sure. About four, I think." He stopped but before Rodney could continue, he added in a soft voice, "The first time."

The first time? Rodney's brain was taking him places he really didn't want to go. "How... how old...?"

"About eight." John took a deep breath but still didn't turn. "The wrist fracture, now, that hurt. But at eleven, your bones are harder and actually break easier."

Rodney wanted to make a joke about how reckless a young John Sheppard must have been, but he had a feeling, a deep-down, horrifying feeling that the broken bones weren't his fault. "Your wrist?"

"Yeah. Right one. I had to wear some damn contraption for a while, while the bones set. It left scars, and even now, it hurts at times, when it's cold or wet." John was rubbing his right wrist and suddenly the constantly-worn wristband made sense. 

"It..." Rodney both wanted to ask and dreaded knowing, but he knew he couldn't leave it be. "It wasn't your fault, was it? You didn't, I don't know, fall out of a tree or off your bike..."

John's silence gave him a better answer than any words could convey. Rodney wanted to cross the space between them but couldn't; he was rooted to his spot by the door, tied down by fading echoes, shared pain and accusations. The John Sheppard he married was not the man who had sliced him open with words, three years before. They'd come a long way since then and Rodney felt mostly secure in their relationship. Having Madison to raise had brought them to greater understanding of each other -- well, most of the time. But the other times, when...

"Did I ever tell you what happened to make me come back to Earth?" John asked. Rodney had the feeling he was trying for a nonchalant tone but if so, he was failing utterly.

"You said something about Teyla," Rodney replied. "That was about it."

"Oh." John crossed his arms over his chest but didn't turn. He took a deep, noisy breath before speaking further. "Okay. It was coming up on the second anniversary of you leaving," he began. "Teyla and Ronon and I were... well, we were seeing less conflict, what with the Wraith battling it out with the Replicators. Stuff was quiet."

Stuff was boring, Rodney translated in his head. No flights of derring-do, no last minute saves, no battles to be romanticized, no shoot-outs at the OK Corral.

"Everybody seemed to be avoiding me," John continued. "I didn't know why. So, Teyla and Ronon planned an ambush, though she called it an 'intervention.' She's been hanging around Heightmeyer far too much."

Rodney snorted in brief amusement. John was right, she was. 

"They got me to the gym then somehow got Atlantis to shut me out, to keep me in the gym for as long as it took for Teyla to absolutely beat the crap out of me with sticks." He sighed. "I couldn't believe how angry I was at them for locking me in the gym. I found out later that Elizabeth, Heightmeyer and Beckett had been in on it, making sure I was right where everyone wanted me to be. But right then, I... I wished I had my gun with me. But Ronon had made sure the only weapons available were sticks and hands."

Jesus. Rodney's jaw dropped -- John had wanted to kill one of them? Or at least maim. That was not the John Sheppard he knew. When John continued, it was in a softer voice.

"They finally got what they wanted, which was me covered in bruises and too exhausted to block them, to sidestep them. Then they traded sticks for words, verbally attacking me, forcing me to... They got me to admit... how much..."

John's voice stuttered to a halt, but Rodney didn't need to hear more. Besides, it was next to impossible for John to really discuss his feelings, in depth. The fact that Rodney had gotten one 'I love you' out of John (when John apparently hadn't been paying attention) was more than he'd ever expected. 

They stood in silence for quite a long time, and Rodney knew John was as caught up in his own memories as Rodney was. "I'm sorry," Rodney offered, quietly. Before John could speak or he could censor himself, he blurted, "I looked at Madison and saw... " he stopped and swallowed hard, trying to force the words out. "Oh, God, I saw Jeannie. On the slab, cold and blue and I just, I just panicked, I attacked the closest thing to me, I was looking for someone to hurt, who -- who could be responsible along with me, with my failings..."

He must have sounded awful because suddenly, John was there, wrapping Rodney in his arms, squeezing tightly. "Christ," he breathed. "I'm sorry, Rodney, I'm so damn sorry..."

"No," Rodney gasped, squeezing back, "not your fault, not your fault. We can't keep her wrapped in tissue paper forever, she's going to... she's going to..."

"I know." John's voice was as strained as Rodney's. "I know."

* * *

They went home together, Rodney deciding he wasn't going to get any more work done that day anyway, and it had been John's half-day off. They still had problems with articulating their feelings, but the whole crisis had them actually working on their relationship. John told Rodney he was still scared of being the 'mommy' in their relationship, and he felt Rodney wasn't around enough for all of them. Rodney told John he would try harder and that he still needed John to talk more, to tell him what was wrong, what had happened and when, not save it up until they were both bursting with ill will. They both agreed and sighed, knowing how hard it would be to change their patterns so radically.

When Madison returned from class, John was in the kitchen and Rodney was on the sofa, working on his laptop. Beelz jumped down from the sofa and complained her way over to Madison, rubbing against her shins. "Hey, Three-M," Rodney said. She was still unusually somber but she came to him willingly enough, sitting next to him on the sofa. Normally, she'd be pushing his laptop out of the way to sit on his lap. 

John came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He perched on the arm of the sofa next to her. "How're you doing?"

She shrugged. "Okay." There were three new signatures on her cast.

Rodney shut down his laptop and put it on the coffee table. "You want to come sit on my lap?" he asked, praying hard she would say yes.

Instead of replying, Madison thought about it for a few seconds then just carefully crawled over, resting her head against his breastbone. He was careful to keep his sigh of relief internal. 

John slid down the arm of the sofa until he was taking her former place, lifting her legs to rest on his lap. "Beav, your uncle and I owe you a huge apology," he began.

She didn't say anything, nor would she look up to face either of them. After a deep breath, Rodney said, "And we do, apologize, that is. I went... well, both of us can say we went off the deep end. It wasn't that big of a deal, but I couldn't... think like that."

Madison nodded. She picked up John's hand and began playing with his ring.

"And I should never have taught you how to skate without kneepads, elbow pads and a helmet." John sighed. 

"We'll order them from Earth," Rodney said, surprising himself. No, they couldn't protect her from everything bad in the universe, but they also couldn't keep her from doing new things, things that might be scary or dangerous. John looked up and blinked into Rodney's face, and Rodney sighed again.

After a moment, John added, "And we'll get you a new board, too, one more your size."

Rodney nodded and Madison's head came up. "Really?"

"Really." Rodney squeezed her tight. "Once they come in, we'll have another discussion about safety precautions and all that."

"Okay," Madison said and her body relaxed in Rodney's arms. "But why were you yelling at each other?" she asked softly.

"That's a tougher question," John said, looking down at his hands.

"Well, technically I was the only one yelling..." Rodney began, but Madison interrupted him.

"But Unca John, you were mad too, I could feel it." 

Once again, Rodney wondered if she had latent telepathic senses. "Sometimes," Rodney began, "when you get older, your brain kind of plays tricks on you. You see or smell one thing and your brain trips you back in time to some other, weirder memory."

"Yeah," John said, nodding. "When you fell, I..." he sighed. "I just flashed back to places where I fought when I was still in the Air Force. It scared me more than anything, Beav."

"And all I saw was..." No, he was not going to go there, not with Madison, at least. "You, all I saw was you and I just leaped to the assumption that Uncle John wasn't taking your safety seriously enough." He swallowed. "Remember what I've said about assuming anything?"

Madison giggled. "Yup! I do."

"Well, then. You've got the whole story there." John was smiling crookedly at him and Madison felt far less tense. 

"You're not gonna, not gonna..." 

It was John who replied. "No, Beav, you're not getting rid of us that easily." He tickled the backs of her knees through her jeans and she giggled again. "Stuck like glue," she said and Rodney laughed, releasing the last of his tension and fear with it.

"That's a fact, Elmer." 

The rest of the evening went peacefully. They ate dinner in and Rodney worked on the piano with her. She was really coming along and her fugue was almost complete. That night they were afraid of night terrors, something that hadn't been a problem in months; but none came, thankfully. 

However, Rodney realized that he _was_ falling back into old patterns and vowed -- to himself and to John -- to change it. He arranged for one and a half days off every six days and a week off every three or four months, and decided there was nothing that would bring him in to work on those days, unless the Wraith were attacking. He kept to the schedule too, though there were some bellowing matches over the radio every now and then.

A few days after their blow-up, before the cast came off, Rodney came home from work one day to a silent apartment. "Madison?" he called, dropping his radio and laptop on the kitchen counter. She wasn't in her room, which was odd -- she was usually working on the piano the day before his day off. "John?" he called.

"In here," John replied from their bedroom. Rodney walked in and his jaw hit the floor even as the rest of him sprang to attention. The window was polarized, the room lit by candles, and John was stretched out on the bed, not only naked, but erect as well, stroking himself lazily with one hand.

"Ahhh..." Rodney found himself completely without words.

John grinned. "Hi, honey, I'm home," he said in a low, incredibly sexy voice. "Madison's on the mainland at a sleepover, she won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. So get your clothes off now or I'll come over there and rip them off you."

Rodney didn't have to be told twice. He almost pulled a muscle getting his clothing and shoes off  before basically leaping on the bed and into John's embrace. John laughed as he caught Rodney and rolled them over on the big bed, kissing Rodney to within an inch of his life.

"How did you manage this?" Rodney managed to ask, in between breathless kissing.

"It's been planned for a while," John replied while nibbling at Rodney's collarbone. "I just didn't tell you. Wanted it to be a surprise."

That was about the extent of conversation for quite a while -- well, excluding some demands like "Now!" and "Harder!" and "Fuck!" and some heartfelt deity-invocations. John had already prepped himself, a fact he proved by straddling Rodney's torso, reaching behind himself to grab Rodney's cock and guiding in into himself. Rodney had a vague memory of whimpering, though he wasn't quite sure who did it.

John rode Rodney for an incredibly long time. Every time Rodney thought he was coming close, John would stop, swallow hard and tug on his own balls. The third time he did it, Rodney gasped, "How...?"

With a smile that was incredibly sexy, John whispered, "Took the edge off before you came home." He started rising and falling again while Rodney swallowed hard against the image of John masturbating; it was one of his biggest turn-ons and John knew it. Some time later, Rodney had no clue when, he was lost in an erotic haze, John's breath began hitching. "Rodney," he growled, reaching for his erection.

"Oh, God yes, do it, do it John, let me see," Rodney babbled. "I want to watch you, God yes!" 

John's steady rhythm began to falter as he licked the palm of his hand and began pulling at himself  hard, his gaze on Rodney's face even as he began slamming down. With a shout that should have been heard all over Atlantis, John came, spraying Rodney with his come.

As John sagged, Rodney surged up and flipped them, thanking John, Ronon and Teyla for the strengthening exercises he'd been getting. Once John was on his back, Rodney went for it, driving into John until he came too, with a shudder and a moan.

Later that evening, after dinner, after a hot, wonderful bath together, after they'd gone to bed and the candles had gone out, Rodney spooned up behind John. Rodney loved to wrap his arms around John, his strong, lean body better than any fantasy he'd ever had. They were beginning to fall asleep when Rodney whispered into John's ear, "How did you break your arms, John?" He was hoping that John would be sufficiently blissed-out and relaxed that he'd be able to admit it.

John sighed and was quiet so long Rodney worried he'd fallen asleep. "It was my dad," he finally whispered back. "He said I wasn't strong enough and kept trying to get me to be stronger. He didn't even want to take me to the hospital the second time, said it didn't matter."

Rodney closed his eyes and tightened his arms around John. 

"He had to take me to the ER the third time, I think because he knew what would happen if he didn't. My teachers were sure to find out. Well, at least one of them... Miss Watson, I think she knew what was going on but... she didn't..."

"Why?" The question burst out of Rodney along with a healthy dollop of anger and frustration. Teachers weren't supposed to... then he remembered his own childhood.

"It was a... different time, Rodney. Kids now, I think they've got the whole support thing we never had. And Dad..." John sighed. "He said he was just teaching me how to be strong." John's murmured words carried so much bitterness that Rodney wanted to cry. Suddenly, his whole life with Mommy Dearest felt like growing up in the Brady Bunch.

"Where was your mom?"

"I don't know." John spoke louder, flatly. "She took off when I was, I don't remember, seven? He might have been beating her too, but I don't remember."

Abandonment issues, much? Rodney thought to himself. A whole lot of John Sheppard had been just been revealed and Rodney vowed to never, _ever_ leave John behind, _anywhere_.

They were just starting to relax again, when Rodney asked, "Where is he now?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him since I managed to get into the Academy." John lifted Rodney's hand and pulled it and the arm tighter around himself. In the morning, when they woke (not to an alarm, thankfully), they stayed in bed, feeding each other fruit and fried batter cakes and making out like teenagers, screwing like bunnies. It was one of the best days Rodney'd had since John came back into his life.

Later that afternoon, they flew to the mainland to pick up Madison. When she saw them, she leapt to her feet and slammed into both of them, since they were standing that closely together.

end


End file.
